Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1887-02-26
The Young Milton,

Most people seem to experience an
odd difficulty in realizing that the very
greatest personages of the past ever
were young. Yet this conc option is
necessary, if we wish to see them as
they really We're. and not according to
the textbooks and other sources of
illusory tradition. Milton, for instance;
who does not think of him habitually
rs the blind old bard?" To test this,
let any one arrange to have the name
brought suddenly before the attention
at an odd moment and see what kind
of image presents itself to the mag ma
ton in response to the word. Ten to
one it will prove to be venerable but
sightless and piteous figure, a confused
mixture of several superimposed
images, of which the most prominent
may be some do.orous frontispieCe en-
craving of a stoop- shouldered bust, or
the blind, pathetic form in Munkacsy's
vivid group. Itneeds but an instant's
reflection to see that this is a very in
adequate and unfortunate conception
of the actual hilton in his best
days. True, he was both old
and blind when the two Paradises
were committed to paper, but not when
they were first conceived in his crea-
tive brain. And what of that long
period of his middle manhood, whe
he was not only poet but statesman,
and diplomatic, and terrible fighter for
free thought and free government-an
erect, active figure, as full of force and
fire as any trooper of them all? What
of the still earlier days, when the beau
tiful young fellow charmed the hearts
of man and maid, cunning at fence"
of the literal sort as well as in all the
elegant intricacies of Italian sonne-
teering and polished statecraft? For
my part, / Ike best to remember the
outward aspect of Milton as he appears
in Nertue's engraving from the Onslow
portrait at the age of 2l-a 10 und
youngster, with laugh ng, dark, gray,
eyes, and fresh, manly face; full of the
sap so soon to mature into the tough
oak that helped--he more than almost
any man, if we consider his having
been both brain and pen to Cromwell,
besides his own incessant prose polemics
on the side OF freedom-to wrestle out
our modern liberties in that fierce tug
of the great revolution. 1t was at just
the time of this lovely boy-portrait
that he was writing to his college-mate
"Festivity and poetry are not incom-
patible. Why should it be different
with you? But, indeed, one sees the
triple influence of Bacchus, Apollo,
and Ceres in the verses you have sent
me. And then, have you not music
the harp lightly touched by nimble
hands, and the lutte giving time to the
fair ones as they dance in the old tap
estried room? Believe me, where the
IVORY keys leap and the accompanying
dance goes round the perfumed hall,
there will the song-god be-"
The teachers of literature might well
make some effort to rehabilita.s those
misimagined worthless of the past, to
remove from them the DISCUSSES of age
and senlllty that Il too reverent ira
dition has thrown about them, and to
present them in that bloom of manhood
belonging to the period of their greater
activity. If | Were professor of lit
erature | should desire to hang nv
lecture room with pictures--not of the
old traditional and forbidding decrepi.
tudes, but OF Milton, for example, as
the charming young swordsman, with
velvet coat tossed on the ground, and
rapier in hand; of Homer, no longer
bl nd and pTematurely agoniZed, as il
We're, with our II odern perplexities in
finding him birthplace, but as the
splendid young Greek athlete, limbed
and weaponed like his own youthful
vision of Apollo.-4tlantic.
At the Festive Board.
Mr.. Peterby, will you please carve The
turkeyp
no, thank you. The man who
caves must either be a fool or rascal,
and don't ca to be either"
What do You m an!n
IF he keeps the choicest portions for
himself he is scoundrel, if he does
not keep them for him eff lie is a fool
and as said, don't care to place my
self in either category.-SiC ings.